


First Winter

by KY Lowell (TachyonStar)



Category: Devil May Cry
Genre: Gen, so much fluff you might get cavities
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-16
Updated: 2019-06-16
Packaged: 2020-05-13 04:17:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,337
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19243669
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TachyonStar/pseuds/KY%20Lowell
Summary: Living with Kyrie and Nero is affording V the opportunity to experience a lot of things all over again.





	First Winter

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Featherhead](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Featherhead/gifts).



> Written for a prompt challenge - “Don’t you dare throw that snowba-, goddammit!". Apparently I can't get away from this prompt, no matter what fandom I'm in. :P
> 
> This assumes V survived (obviously) and ended up moving in with Kyrie and Nero. I figure, with the secret bonus art and all, it's probably implied he at least stuck around Fortuna and is helping out there, so why not?
> 
> First time actually writing fic for DMC at all, so be gentle. (Heh.)

It's been, to put it lightly, a bit of a struggle getting V accustomed to a normal human life.

Up until now, Nero hasn't realized what all he, and everyone else around him, just takes for granted. The little things, such as a home-cooked meal, a good long shower that can be as hot and cold as desired, a soft bed with freshly washed sheets; they're all things V knew once, before he became who he is now, but experiencing them in this body is so different that almost everything seems to inspire a strange wondering surprise in him, something Nero's never quite sure how to react to (and he's sure it's obvious, but well, what can he do?) It's starting to become a bit of a routine, really - just when he thinks everything is settling down, something new comes up, and they're starting the cycle all over again. He thinks he's getting used to it, and slowly, he's beginning to think that's less and less of a bad thing.

Then the seasons change, and one crisp day, they wake to the first snowfall, peaceful white threatening to melt away at the barest touches of wintry sunlight.

The children, of course, are excited (and Kyrie has to gently scold them for neglecting their breakfast in favor of chattering away about how much they're looking forward to going outside), but it's surprising to Nero just how excited V seems to be too, a look of open childlike wonder on his face that's almost breathtaking in its intensity. It makes sense, really - V has never experienced winter, he's really only been alive a scant handful of months and it's the first time he's been genuinely human - and yet, some part of Nero still isn't entirely sure what to do about it, his thoughts a whirling melange of pity and uncertainty that he's trying his best to push away. To have never truly known something like this, to look on it as brand new, as something that must be touched, felt, experienced - what, he wonders, does that feel like?

(The moment he thinks it, he feels inexplicably _guilty_ , somehow--)

The breakfast dishes are eventually cleared away, the closet gone from neat order to a hurricane of garments tossed every which way as coats and hats and gloves are procured, and the children and V are out the door like a shot, Kyrie trailing after to fuss at all four of them to make sure their coats are zipped up and to put their hats on properly and - Nero just shakes his head, follows at the rear and stuffs his hands into his pockets, absently watching the ephemeral swirls that are his breath in the chill air. It's a nice day, really, only the smallest breeze nipping at exposed noses and cheeks to turn them a cheerful red, and soon he's relaxed, watching with a small smile as Julio and Kyle teach V how to make snow angels and Kyrie helps Carlo roll up snowballs to make a wobbly little snowman. This is what life should be like, he thinks; quiet, peaceful, spent with the people he loves--

\--and when, he suddenly wonders with a start, did he begin including V in that statement?--

\--he doesn't even realize how lost in his own introspection he's gotten until his face is abruptly covered in chilly powder, and he swipes it away with a sputter to see a grinning Julio pointing in his direction with snow-covered mittens, cheerfully explaining the concept of a snowball fight to V.

So that's how it's going to be then, he thinks, and he finds himself smiling as he stoops to gather a handful of snow for himself.

It's not long before they're all flinging snowballs back and forth, the air filled with the sound of loud and happy voices, and Nero honestly can't _remember_ the last time he had so much fun - it's a shame when it finally has to end, cold and playful exhaustion settling in, and soon Kyrie's herding the breathless kids back inside to warm up but V doesn't follow, only stands there, a snowball cradled awkwardly in his hands that he's looking at as though trying to divine something from its roughly-spherical depths. He seems...melancholy, somehow, almost morose, and that expression tears at Nero's heart in a way he'd never admit to, taking a step closer and raising his hand to reach out. "...Hey. You alright?"

V startles a little, looks up at him, blinking slowly in the way that Nero has come to learn means sheepish embarrassment. "...Yes, I'm fine. I was...merely thinking," he responds quietly, turns his attention back to the snowball, rolling it carefully from one hand to the other and back again. "This is...extremely pleasant, in its way. I suppose it became a bit--" pausing, he looks as if he's trying to pull the proper words out of thin air, finally just giving a helpless shrug and letting the sentence stand as it is. By now, he knows Nero will get what he means, even if he can't say it how he wants to. "...I'd like to stay out here for a bit longer. You can go inside, it's alright--"

"What if I don't want to?" Nero raises an eyebrow, lets a teasing note creep into his voice as he speaks, and he's strangely gratified when that gets a huff of a laugh from V, some of the strange sadness leaving soft green eyes. "Yeah, there you go. That's better. Don't look so _sad_ , it makes you look like a kicked puppy--" he steps closer again, puts his hand on V's arm before he can even _think_ , and gives him a reassuring smile. "Look, I know this has to be pretty overwhelming, and I can't even start to imagine how that must feel. But just...try to relax, huh? Have fun, like you were doing with the kids. Don't think about it so hard."

V purses his lips briefly, eyes darkening with thoughtful contemplation, a wisp of breeze ruffling his hair into his face to be absently shaken back a little. "Have fun," he repeats, as if it's a bit of an alien concept all of a sudden, turns his gaze down to the snowball and then back up to Nero's face, the softest of mischievous smirks beginning to tug at the corners of his mouth. "Yes, I suppose I can manage that."

Nero blinks, steps back, apprehension tugging at the back of his mind as that smirk grows wider, as V focuses on him with a laser-sharp gaze and lifts the snowball with a slow, deliberate motion. "No, that's not what I - don't even _think_ about it, don't you _dare_ throw that snowba--"

He never finishes the sentence, seeing as it's rather hard to speak with a mouthful of cold powder from that snowball impacting his face.

"-- _goddammit_ , V--!" he sputters once he's managed to clear the snow away, and he'd probably say more, but now V's _laughing_ , doubled over with the force of it, and it's impossible to stay even the least bit angry in the face of that warm, open mirth. "...You're a real jackass sometimes, you know that?"

V just looks up at him, grins guilelessly, trailing off into hiccuping chuckles that just might be the most adorable thing he's ever _seen_ , and he finds himself smiling back, a flush rising to his cheeks that has nothing to do with the chill.

"...C'mon. Let's go in. I'm gonna introduce you to something else you'll love," he finally says, turns to head inside, hearing the soft crunch of V's boots on the snow as he follows. "How do you feel about the thought of hot chocolate?"

V blinks slowly, tilts his head, considers that - combing through indistinct memories, most likely, but clearly ones that he can pull at least _something_ tangible from. "With marshmallows?"

"Now you're talking." Nero looks back, gives him a grin, and feels warm all over when he grins back.


End file.
